


Bellamy’s People: Episode 2

by AutisticWriter



Series: Bellamy's People (Of The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland) [2]
Category: Bellamy's People (TV)
Genre: 1970s, Ableism, Adoption, Agoraphobia, Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Armed Forces, Bipolar Disorder, Blood, Bulimia, Bullying, Canon Gay Character, Civil Partnerships, Crying, Dated language, Depression, Drinking, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Fluff, Friendship, Gay Characters, Hallucinations, Homophobia, Homophobic Bullying, Homosexuality, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, Long-Term Relationships, Medical Ableism, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Mental Hospitals, Mental Illness, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, POV Third Person, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, Prejudice, Present Tense, Psychosis, Queer Characters, Queer Themes, Scars, Schizophrenia, Sequel, Slash, Slurs, Soldiers, headcanons, mental breakdowns, panic disorder, parenting, psychotic episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10099463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: The award winning Gary Bellamy is going around Britain asking the British public about important issues. In this episode, Gary discusses mental illness and the prejudice and challenges mentally ill people face.





	

Once again, Gary finds himself in Humphrey Milner’s house, sitting on Humphrey’s knackered old sofa. Humphrey plonks down beside him and passes him a mug of tea.

“It’s great to see you again, Gary,” he says, taking a sip of his own tea.

“You too,” Gary says. He genuinely likes Humphrey; in fact, he is one of only a few people he regularly meets who doesn’t get on his nerves. “So, Humphrey, I was wondering if you know anything about mental illnesses?”

Humphrey smiles, but then the smile fades as he says, “One of my oldest friends is mentally ill. His name’s George. He has bipolar disorder. Although, back when he was diagnosed, they still called it ‘manic depression’.”

“George and I have been friends for almost sixty years, and he has been mentally ill for almost forty. During that time, I have seen the treatment George is given change and the medical profession become more knowledgeable about his condition. There have definitely been improvements, but things have still been very difficult. George has had to deal with being put on medication that gave him horrible side effects, as well as going through the hell that is being sectioned and ending up as an in-patient. And, of course, his illness has had its ups and downs. There were times when he got really bad. One time, he... he tried to commit suicide.”

“That’s awful,” Gary says.

Humphrey sighs shakily. “I know. But he’s so much better now, and that has only happened once.”

Gary smiles. “That’s good. Do you know anything about the stigma around mental illness?”

Humphrey nods his head. “Yes, George and I have talked at length about this very topic many times. He has often said that the stigma can be worse than the symptoms, and I think I know what he means. After all, the symptoms are quite well controlled with medication, but the constant comments about him being ‘mental’ or ‘dangerous’ were much harder to live with.”

Gary nods, sadly understanding what Humphrey means. This isn’t the first time he has heard someone say that.

\---

Mike Archer and Hugh Fenwick have their chairs closer together this time, Gary notices. He presumes it’s because he now knows they are a couple, so they don’t feel like they have to hide this from him. That’s good; he hates the idea of them being uncomfortable.

“What do you two know about mental illnesses?” Gary asks.

“Neither of us, thankfully, have ever been mentally ill, but we still...” Mike trails off, as though he doesn’t know how to finish his sentence.

“We still know a hell of a lot about mental illness,” Hugh says, finishing Mike’s sentence for him.

“As we’ve previously mentioned,” Mike says, giving Hugh a grateful smile, “we are both from military families. So I suppose it’s not too surprising that our children would pick up on this and want to follow in our footsteps.”

Gary stares at him, confused. “You’ve got kids?”

“We have, yes,” Hugh says, and he looks just as confused. “Have we never mentioned that?”

“I don’t think so,” Gary says. “So, how many kids have you got?”

“Three,” Mike says, and he counts on his fingers as he speaks. “There’s Darren, who’s twenty one – he’s currently training to be an army doctor. There’s Charlie, who’s nineteen – he’s out in Afghanistan at the moment. And then there’s Sophie, who’s seventeen, and she’s the only exception.”

Mike suddenly looks quite sad. Hugh reaches across and squeezes his hand.

“Um, what do you mean, the only exception?” Gary asks, a bit concerned.

“Sophie wanted to join the army when she turned sixteen, but she was rejected for... for medical reasons,” Hugh says, stammering slightly. “The exact medical reason being her depression. You see, you cannot join the army if you have a mental illness or have ever...” he trails off, and Gary sees him swallow hard, “...ever self harmed.”

Now Gary understands. He nods his head, watching Hugh and Mike look very much like they are fighting back tears.

“Um... are you all right?”

Hugh nods his head. “Yes, we’re fine. It’s just rather difficult for us to talk about.”

“I understand,” Gary says.

“Sophie was severely bullied throughout her time at school. Simply for having two fathers.”

Mike scoffs, but his bottom lip is trembling. “Since when was that a crime?”

“The other students bullied her relentlessly,” Hugh says. His voice is thickening. Beside him, Mike is gritting his jaw and biting his bottom lip to stop it wobbling. “The school were useless. We had meeting after meeting with them, but they never stopped the bullying. The bullies never got punished. It was awful.”

“And whilst of all of that was happening, Sophie... She... Her self esteem shattered. She became so depressed; she was like a shell of her former happy self. She hated herself. So she... she started cutting herself.” Mike’s voice breaks, and he screws his eyes up tightly, as though determined to not let himself cry. “But she... she was so strong. We had no idea how depressed she was until we saw her arm, and then we realised what had happened. There are so many scars...”

“But she’s better now,” Hugh says, his voice firm yet kind as he grasps Mike’s hands and squeezes them tightly.

Gary sees Mike swallow hard.

“Yes,” he says shakily, clearly forcing himself to smile. “She’s better now. But not enough for the army to let her achieve her lifelong dream.”

Hugh sighs. “Not for that to happen, no.”

“It’s not fair,” Mike says, and Gary has to agree.

\---

Martin Hole’s behaviour is strange today. Gary has only been with him for a few minutes, but he can already tell that something is wrong. He’s tense, and keeps flinching as though being startled by loud noises, except there are no noises that Gary can hear.

“Are you all right, Martin?” Gary asks after this happens for the fifth time.

“Yeah, I’m just dealing with a bloody mental illness,” Martin says, very matter-of-factly. As he speaks, Gary realises that he is speaking quite a bit faster than he usually does, like he’s had too much coffee.

Gary blinks, slightly bemused. Only Martin could be that bloody blunt.

“Um, is it all right... can I ask you about your mental illness?” Gary says. “Because that’s what this week’s episode is about, you see?”

“Sure thing, Gal,” Martin says, and he grins. He flinches again, and Gary sees a brief flash of panic in his eyes.

Gary smiles back. “Right then. So, what mental illness do you have?”

“Schizophrenia,” Martin says. “I’m actually having a pretty bad day today. Me hallucinations are worse than normal.”

“If it’s not too personal a question,” Gary asks cautiously, “what’re your hallucinations like?”

But Gary doesn’t have to worry. Despite Martin’s previously grumpy behaviour with him whenever their opinions clashed on an important issue, ever since he got drunk and revealed that he’s gay (and fancies Gary), he has been very pleasant with Gary almost all of the time, presumably out of embarrassment. But Gary genuinely doesn’t mind.

So, rather than going off on one, Martin simply smiles at him and says, “Well, Gal, I’ve currently got these hallucinations that feel like bugs crawling all over my legs, and ‘bout three different voices all telling me that the ceiling’s gonna to cave in and we’re all gonna die.” The words spill out his mouth far too fast, but Gary still understands him.

“That sounds awful,” Gary says, part of him wanting to give Martin a hug. He doesn’t.

Martin shrugs his shoulders. “You get used to it.”

His fingers fumbling slightly, Martin digs into his pocket and pulls out a small cardboard packet. “I have to take these twice a day. They’re called anti-psychotics. They stop most of the hallucinations and delusions, you see?”

Gary nods, murmuring his understanding.

“Without ‘em I’d probably be thinking I was being spied on and having a massive freak out and thinking everyone was out to kill me. That’s what got me diagnosed. Had a psychotic break and ended up on a psych ward. I was on the ward for three months, but then they found the right meds for me and I got a lot better and they let me go. Most days I only hear the odd voice or two, but it’s really easy to deal with. But then there’s days like today, where the hallucinations and delusions are really bad and I’m constantly thinking that something awful’s gonna happen.”

“I’m actually a bit worried, Gal,” he adds, leaning closer to Gary, his speech getting faster.

“Why are you worried?” Gary asks, knowing it isn’t at all like Martin to be worried about anything.

“Cos on days like this I know it might turn into another breakdown, and I don’t want that to happen.”

Martin looks so scared it’s actually rather depressing to see. Not knowing what to say, Gary simply sighs and pats his arm. He sees Martin flinch at the unexpected contact, a small smile crossing his anxious face.

“Thanks, mate,” he says weakly, and he squeezes Gary’s shoulder.

\---

As he sits down next to Ian Craig-Oldman, Gary can’t help but think about what happened the last time he saw Ian. Ian must be thinking about it too, as he looks rather uncomfortable.

“So, Ian, what do you know about mental illness?” Gary asks, watching Ian tap his fingertips against the table.

“Well, my partner, Archie – you know Archie, don’t you?” Ian says, cutting himself off.

Gary nods. He met Archie during his previous meeting with Ian, the meeting in which Ian got too drunk and threw up. He seemed like a kind, caring bloke, and was clearly as worried about Ian as Gary was.

“Yes, well he, he had bulimia when we were younger,” Ian says, and he looks like he might have tears in his eyes. “Well, I suppose he still has it, really, as it doesn’t go away. But it was horrendously bad when we were both in our thirties. To the point that he... he had a cardiac arrest.”

Gary’s eyes widen. “What? How did that happen?”

“It’s quite common in bulimic people. It’s caused by an electrolyte imbalance, from vomiting too much and getting dangerously dehydrated. It fucks with your heart’s rhythm and you... your heart stops.” Ian’s voice trembles, and he downs his glass of whiskey.

“Are you all right, Ian?” Gary says.

Ian nods, swallowing hard. “Yes, I’m all right. It’s just rather difficult to talk about, even though it was so long ago.”

Gary smiles sympathetically. “I understand.”

\---

As Sam Maitland dismisses another of his analogies, Gary looks up as he hears footsteps, and sees Martin, the vicar, coming into the hall. When Martin realises that he and Sam are in front of a camera, he freezes up, his eyes widening.

“Hello, Martin!” Sam says when she spots him.

Martin stands very still and smiles awkwardly. “Hello, Sam.”

“You might want to ask Martin about this, actually,” Sam says to Gary. “He knows quite a lot.”

Gary nods, and looks at Martin. “Um, would you be interested in answering some questions on mental illnesses and society’s attitudes towards them?”

Martin ducks his head and wrings his trembling hands together. “If you would like me to.”

“Of course we would,” Sam says, smiling reassuringly.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Gary adds, slightly concerned by how nervous Martin looks.

“No, no, I can do it,” Martin says, and he comes across the room and sits down next to Sam.

“Right, so, what do you know about mental illness, Martin?” He asks.

Martin avoids eye contact and tightly clasps his hands together as he mumbles, “Anxiety.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve got anxiety. I’ve always been anxious, but it didn’t get diagnosed until I was thirty. The doctor diagnosed me with Generalised Anxiety Disorder.”

“I see,” Gary says, understanding him now. “How does your anxiety affect your ability to work and socialise?”

“Most of the time, I manage all right. I mean, I am pretty much always anxious, but I can control it quite well with my medication and the breathing exercises my therapist taught me. Sometimes, however, when I’m particularly nervous, I have a panic attack,” Martin says, and Sam pats his arm. “And having a panic attack means whatever I was doing grounds to a halt for a while until I’ve calmed down enough to continue.”

“Can I ask you what your panic attacks are like?” Gary says.

“Of course,” Martin says. He’s smiling, but he’s wringing his hands a lot faster now. “They are, to put it simply, absolutely awful. I hyperventilate, I can’t seem to breathe, I feel faint, I sweat profusely and my fingers and toes go numb. It often makes me cry, it is so terrifying. I cannot deal with them on my own – I forget all of my knowledge of breathing exercises and the panic sort of takes over – and they can last for up to fifteen minutes when I am alone. When I’m with someone else, however, the panic attacks are a lot easier to deal with.”

He looks at Sam, and she smiles. Gary smiles too, knowing that mental illnesses seem to be a little less stressful when the person is surrounded by supportive, caring people.

\---

Just like he is every time Gary visits him, Graham Downes is in his bed in the living room, surrounded by gadget and eating a bowl of sugar puffs.

“Do you have any experiences with mental illness, Graham?” Gary asks.

“I do, yeah,” Graham says, nodding his head. “Have you heard of agoraphobia, Gal?”

Gary nods. “Yeah.”

“I mean properly heard of it, like do you actually know what it is?”

“Well, I know it’s an anxiety disorder,” Gary says, suddenly realising that he barely knows anything about it at all. “Isn’t it the one where you’re scared to leave the house?”

Graham raises his eyebrows. “That’s just the stereotype, Gal. There’s a lot more to it than that. It’s basically a fear of open spaces, cos you can’t control what’s going to happen and that makes you really, really anxious. Your house is a safe space, and it makes me very anxious to leave, but to also be somewhere very busy and crowded, like a theme park, and somewhere really exposed and open, like a field. And when I say anxious, I really mean anxious. Last time I went outside, I had a massive panic attack and fainted.”

“When was the last time you went outside?” Gary asks, feeling immensely sorry for the man whom he now considers a close friend.

Graham sighs and breaks eye contact. “A year ago.”

\---

Martin crouches down in front of a wall as he smears it with plaster. He is gripping the trowel so tightly his knuckles have gone white, and his hand is shaking. Gary watches him, noting with a concerned look that Martin is looking tense again. And then Martin flinches, almost dropping the trowel.

“Fuck off,” Martin mutters under his breath, his teeth gritted.

Gary looks over at Jack, Martin’s assistant, and sees him looking concerned. If someone who works with Martin everyday thinks this is bad, then there must be something seriously wrong.

\---

Geoffrey Allerton has run out of tea bags, so he offers Gary a mug of hot chocolate with an embarrassed look on his face.

But Gary smiles and says, “Yes please. I love hot chocolate.”

Looking relieved, Geoffrey hurries into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returns, carrying two huge mugs of hot chocolate with squirty cream and sprinkles on the top. Gary grins.

“Thanks,” he says. “This is amazing.”

Geoffrey smiles bashfully. “You’re welcome.”

Geoffrey sits down opposite him, and they both take a sip of their hot chocolate. It’s delicious. Once he has drank half of the mug, Gary decides this might be a good time to start the interview.

“Now I know we’ve discussed your mental health before, but would you be all right talking about it again?” Gary says.

“Yes, that’s fine,” Geoffrey says.

“That’s good. So, this week’s episode is specifically about the way society treats mental illness. I’d like to know if you’ve ever felt any prejudice for being mentally ill.”

Geoffrey stares into the middle distance, clearly thinking hard. And then he frowns and nods his head. “Yes. Not a lot compared to other people, but there’s always been that look I get when I tell someone I’m depressed. A friend caught me cutting once, and avoided me for months. I think he was scared of me, although I don’t know why. And then there are the other times when people don’t believe me when I say I have depression, so I can’t really win. I’m either too bad or not bad enough.”

Gary sighs, watching Geoffrey blink back tears.

“Sorry,” Geoffrey says, wiping his eyes.

“Don’t be sorry,” Gary says. “You don’t have anything to apologise for, really. I’m sorry that’s happened to you.”

Geoffrey smiles through the tears. “Thank you, Gary.”

\---

“Hi, Archie,” Gary says as Ian’s partner joins them at their table.

Archie looks anxious, and Gary is sure he knows why; after all, telling someone about your mental illness is not an easy thing to do.

“Hello,” he mumbles, smiling weakly. Ian takes his hand and interlocks their fingers.

“Ian’s been telling me about your... mental health problems. Is that something you’d feel comfortable discussing with me?”

Archie nods, but he looks apprehensive.

“That’s good. So, have you faced any discrimination or prejudice as a result of being mentally ill?”

Archie nods again. He glances at Ian, who gives him a reassuring smile. “Lots. I mean, back when I was diagnosed, no one really knew what bulimia was. Even the doctors didn’t know much – it wasn’t until 1980 that they even realised it was a mental illness.” Seeing how confused Gary looks, he adds, “Up until then, they thought it was both physical and mental.” Gary nods in understanding. “To be quite honest, it was easier to deal with when no one knew what the hell it was. When eating disorders began to gain understanding and awareness, things became harder to deal with.”

“You know that stereotype that only teenage girls get eating disorders?” Ian says. “Well, that gets right on our nerves, doesn’t it, Arch?”

“Yes, it certainly does,” Archie says. “I know that the majority of people who get them are teenage girls, but not all. People don’t seem to acknowledge that older people (especially men) can get them too, and that is very harmful, because it can stop people from getting the help they need. I’ve been laughed at, you know. A few years ago, Ian’s nephew made a rather scathing remark at a family reunion that really upset me. He said ‘I didn’t know you were a teenage girl, Uncle Archie,’ and everyone laughed like it was so fucking funny. Except Ian, of course.”

Archie smiles weakly and gives Ian a kiss.

“He’s always stood up for me,” he says. “He’s amazing like that.”

Ian’s cheeks have gone red. “If you say so, old chap.”

“Well I do say so,” Archie says firmly. “You’ve always been fucking amazing.”

Ian waggles his eyebrows at Gary and grins as he says, “Yes I suppose I have.”

And then both Ian and Archie start laughing.

\---

Without warning, Martin drops his trowel, the clatter making Gary jump. He scrabbles to his feet, his eyes looking unfocused as he stares around the room.

“’Scuse me,” he mumbles, his voice flat, and he rushes out of the room, raising his arms as though trying to protect his head.

“Fucking hell,” Jack mutters, and he hurries out of the room after Martin.

Concerned, Gary follows after them. He finds Jack and Martin out in the back garden. Jack has hold of Martin’s arm, and Martin is trying to pull free as he glances around, looking up at the sky and flinching at non-existent voices. He looks absolutely terrified.

“Fuck off fuck off fuck off!” Martin screams, spinning around as though he’s trying look in every direction at once.

“Martin, it’s me, you’re safe, please calm down,” Jack babbles, but his words are futile for all they calm Martin down.

Martin turns around, and he sees Gary. His eyes widen.

“Gal!” Martin yells, and he rushes towards him.

Gary takes a step back, slightly worried Martin might hurt him.

“Gal,” he says, quietly this time. “I’m scared, Gal. They won’t leave me alone. They’re gonna hurt you.”

“What?” Gary says. “No one’s going to hurt me, Martin.”

“They are! Please, Gal... I’m scared.”

There are tears in Martin’s eyes. He’s trembling.

Martin grabs hold of his _arms_ and hugs him, clinging to him like he can’t let go. Gary stands there awkwardly, but, seeing Jack nod, he begins to pat Martin’s back. He hears Martin break down, his breathing shuddering as he sobs into Gary’s shoulder. Jack comes over and rubs Martin’s back, looking calm enough to have experienced this before.

“It’s all right, Martin,” he says, keeping his voice soft. “We’re with you. Nothing’s going to happen to you or Gary. It’s all right, I promise.”

Martin’s knees buckle, and Jack helps Gary ease him to the ground before he can fall. He shuffles so Gary’s face is pressing uncomfortably against his neck, wrapping his trembling arms around Gary’s head and neck, clearly trying to protect him. He’s breathing so fast he surely must be hyperventilating, sobs catching in his throat.

“They’re here,” Martin moans, over and over again.

Gary doesn’t know what ‘they’ are, but assumes Martin is hallucinating.

“They’re not gonna get Gary, Martin,” Jack says. “We’re protecting him, aren’t we?”

Martin nods, but he doesn’t stop crying. Gary meets Jack’s eyes and sees him mouth ‘hospital’. He nods, knowing that Martin is bad enough to justify taking him to hospital. Hopefully he can get some stronger meds at A&E, so he can calm down. Its horrible seeing Martin like this.

So, as Jack calls 999 and Martin sobs into his shoulder, Gary rubs his friend’s back and tries to tell Martin that They aren’t going to hurt him, and that he’s safe. He doesn’t know if he is achieving anything, but, as long as he’s supporting Martin, he hopes this is better than nothing, and that he might be making his friend’s ordeal slightly easier to deal with.


End file.
